


Fall Down

by reclusiveq



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst and Humor, Clumsiness, Cute, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 14:32:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1861422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reclusiveq/pseuds/reclusiveq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The five times Bucky was clumsy and the one time he wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall Down

I.

Bucky laughed as he ran through the puddles, Steve close on his heels. It was a good day for Steve, and the early morning rain had helped lift some of the heat that had settled over Brooklyn. It was still drizzling, but mostly the rain had let up, which was the only reason Steve’s mom had let him come outside.

Steve’s mom was really strict about that sort of thing. There were times she wouldn’t even let Steve out of bed. Bucky had asked her why once, and she had told him that it was because Steve was very weak and couldn’t do things like the other kids. Bucky remembered her sounding sad about that, so Bucky had decided that those days he would spend with Steve, even if all he could do was read to him. Poorly, of course. Bucky usually brought a big book from his dad’s bookshelf, then pretended to read from it, when he was actually just making up the story as he went. Steve either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Of course, Steve had days like today, where it seemed nothing at all was wrong with him, and Bucky never hesitated to treat him like a normal kid on those days. He’d only ever treated him like glass, as his dad had put it, one time, but when he saw the dismay in Steve’s face, he promised himself he’d never do so again. 

Steve darted past Bucky suddenly and caught the next puddle. “Beat ya!” He yelled, cheering at himself. Bucky laughed and ran by him. A couple of adults walking to work frowned at them. Probably thought the boys were too old for this. Bucky was gonna be ten this year, and Steve was a year younger.

Bucky ignored their silent disapproval. He enjoyed jumping in puddles after a rain and always had. He couldn’t explain it. It was just fun. Before he’d met Steve, he had simply made a point to jump in every puddle he could find, seeing how high he could get the splashes to go.

After he introduced Steve to the fun, and he found that Steve enjoyed it just as much, Bucky had turned it into a race to see who could get the most puddles. He thought Steve enjoyed the racing because it made him feel like a normal kid. He’d never be able to play tag, or baseball, but something like this…

Bucky grinned as Steve caught up with him. He saw the next puddle, a few feet away, and decided to jump for it. He leapt out away from Steve, grinning because it was the last puddle and he was going to win. But at the same time that he landed, a cat ran in front of him, and Bucky stumbled and hit the pavement hard on his stomach, the water from the puddle soaking his clothes now.

“Bucky!” Steve ran up to him as Bucky rolled over onto his back. “Are you okay?” He sounded scared.

Bucky sat up painfully. His knees and arms were scraped up and bloody and he could feel a loose tooth, but he still managed to grin at Steve. “I win.”

Steve blinked at him, then started laughing. “Let’s go back to my house. Mom’ll fix you up.”

 

II.

Bucky stared up into the tree with a frown. The brown canvas bag that served as Steve’s backpack was stuck up in the highest branches. Steve himself looked roughed up, but Bucky had to give him credit. Despite his small stature, Steve never backed down from a fight. Usually, though, Bucky was there to back him up. He hadn’t been this time, since he’d filled in for a neighborhood baseball game. 

Steve had come to watch, but Bucky had only noticed how he looked after the game. Now he understood why Steve had been late.

“How did they get it way up there?” It was fall, almost winter. Thankfully there hadn’t been a frost yet, and most of the leaves were still on the tree. 

“One of them climbed up,” Steve grumbled.

“You should have gotten me right away.”

“Naw, I like watching you play baseball. It’s about all you’re good at,” Steve teased, trying to make light of the situation.

Bucky laughed. He knew Steve didn’t like anyone to make a big deal out of his size, least of all Bucky. Steve was already fifteen, but still looked like he was ten. “Listen, you little punk,” Bucky grinned. “I’m going to go get your bag and then we’re going back to my place and you can clean my room as payback for that comment.” He didn’t really mean it. Bucky’s room was never a mess anyway, and Steve knew it.

“Fine, but be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just hold onto my bat and swing at anyone who tries to give you a hard time.” Bucky handed the wooden bat over, then circled the tree, looking for the quickest way up.

He climbed carefully, glad he at least didn’t have an issue with heights. The tree was an older one, with sturdy roots and strong branches, so Bucky felt secure climbing it. He reached the bag and opened it, checking the contents. 

All of Steve’s art supplies were still in there. Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. Those had been damned expensive to get, especially with the depression, but it had been worth it for Steve. His friend loved to draw, but stuff like this was considered a luxury. So Bucky had set aside little by little doing what little work he could to save for it.

He closed up the bag again and slung it over his back, then looked down. Steve was clutching the bat tightly to his chest, watching Bucky anxiously. Bucky grinned at him. “Coming back down, pal!” He called.

He started back down slowly, checking to make sure his foot was settled on each branch until he put his weight on it. He reached the last branch and sat down on it, feet dangling about five feet in the air. He grinned at Steve. “Gonna jump.”

Steve looked doubtful but moved out of the way. Bucky pushed himself off the branch and realised too late his angle was slightly off. His feet slid out from under him and he felt his ankle twist as he landed on his butt. “Fuck,” Bucky said with a chuckle.

“God, Bucky, are you okay?” Steve looked concerned. “Wait, let me rephrase that, are you an idiot? I swear, if anyone knew how clumsy you really are...”

Bucky burst out laughing. “Shut up, punk, and help me up. My ankle hurts.”

Steve helped his friend with a laugh of his own. “Come on, jerk. We’ll wrap it up at home.”

 

III.

Bucky eyed the rifles laid out in front of them. Howard was talking about the different features each of them had, most of which Bucky didn’t really understand. Actually, he was having a hard time digesting any of this. It hadn’t been that long ago that Steve had pulled him out of that Hydra lab where god only knew what they had done to Bucky.

It wasn’t only that either. He’d had so little time to process anything. Steve had somehow turned into a taller, buffer version of himself, which was throwing Bucky off enough as is. Bucky still remembered the skinny little punk from Brooklyn that he’d grown up with and, if he had to admit it, he kinda missed that guy. This new Steve… He just had a stronger presence about him that _made_ people want to follow.

Bucky didn’t know if this new Steve was still the same Steve, but he’d made a promise that he’d be with him until the end of the line. So when Steve had asked him to go back to the fighting, back to the hell that was overseas, of course Bucky had said yes. But he’d also made it clear exactly who he was following. He didn’t know this Captain America persona and it sounded horribly cheesy to him. No, he was following his friend Steve, because he knew Steve would always have his back. 

That was why he was here, listening to Howard Stark talk about each rifles capabilities as if any of that meant anything to Bucky right now. He was a sniper, yes, but usually he was just handed whatever was available and told to use it. At least he had never failed to miss his mark.

He glanced over to where Steve was pointedly not talking to Peggy. Bucky sighed. That guy just didn’t know how to handle dames. Guess that hadn’t changed. He looked back at Howard. “I appreciate this, but honestly, I don’t know half of what you just said. Can I just try them out and see which one feels best?”

“Sure thing, pal,” Howard said. He waved a couple of guys over, who brought Bucky ear muffs and started setting up targets. Everyone cleared out of the way. Bucky took each sniper rifle and got down on the floor with it. He tested the scope, the weight… everything. He only fired one shot from each, then finally chose one. “This one feels… right to me.” Bucky couldn’t really explain it.

Howard just nodded, as if he was used to working this way. “All right. Then that’s the one you’ll be using. We’ll get some more bullets prepared for it. Steve, Peggy. Gonna need your thoughts on some of the other weapons.” 

Bucky let the three of them talk while he settled his new rifle into its case. It really was a nice gun. He found himself eager to try it out again and that maybe scared him a little. He pulled away and looked around the room, taking his mind off of it. There were some other items on a shelf and he wandered over to look at them. They didn’t look like any weapon he’d ever seen before. 

He picked up a small thin rectangle and turned it over in his hands, trying to figure out what the hell it was. It was metal but incredibly lightweight, meant to be compact. He ran a thumb along one side, then started to set it back on the shelf when there was a sudden pop and the cube opened and a raft came out, inflating, and knocking everything off the shelf.

Bucky leapt back, wide-eyed and cursing as everything clattered very loudly to the floor. He turned and looked at Steve. Everyone was staring at him, while Bucky looked helplessly at them. Then Steve burst out laughing. “Typical, Bucky. Remind me to let Dum Dum carry the rifle until you’re ready to use it.”

Bucky blinked, then started to laugh himself. Steve really was still his Steve.

 

IV.

They had set up a temporary camp inside the Hydra base. It was empty now, another lab to check off the list. Bucky was currently helping Steve go through the facility to look for any supplies they could use.

It was a good use of his time, really. Steve knew that Bucky didn’t like being here any longer than they had to be, but they were getting closer to the Red Skull and this place was easily fortified. There were other supplies they were running low on, so this was also a good spot for a supply drop if they didn’t find what they needed already here.

Bucky knew all of that, but it didn’t make it any easier to be here. He had two hand guns strapped to his hips. He’d left the rifle at their actual camp, since it would be useless if they were attacked here. He had to admit, it had come in very handy these past several weeks. He’d discovered little things about that rifle that he suspected Howard had tried to tell him about and Bucky had, of course, tuned out. He learned by doing anyway.

Bucky, at the moment, was alone. They always traveled in pairs, safer that way, but Steve had had to step away to take care of business. Bucky stepped into the next room they were checking, hand resting on his hip where the gun sat, ready in case some HYDRA agent was still lurking in the shadows. 

The room was empty, though. Bucky found it was a storage room and he groaned a bit when he saw what was one the shelves. “Steve, we got food in here!”

Steve hurried in. “Good food?”

“Unfortunately no," Bucky groused. Bad food. Well, probably not bad, but look. Potatoes. I’ve had so many potatoes, I think I’m half Irish now. See this right here? Dried up ham.” Bucky picked up one of the bags and banged in against the shelf. “Hard as a rock. Man, if I was HYDRA, I would have defected just for this.”

Steve chuckled. “Tell you what, when we get back to New York, I’ll treat you to a full meal, whatever you want, wherever you want. Being Captain America has some benefits. But we were running low on food and we’re not likely to get better. I’d rather take these and let the army distribute what they have to the people who really need it.”

“All right, all right. Couple boxes there. Let’s get these loaded up. Dernier and Gabe can go looking later. They’ve been sitting on their asses all day,” Bucky joked. They had actually been setting up the perimeter alarms. Bucky suspected that included a few explosives, given Dernier’s preferences.

They loaded the boxes and Bucky hefted his up. Despite the fact that he was stronger now than he used to be, he still found the box heavy. It would be trouble if they ran into some enemy, but Bucky doubted they would.

He led the way, keeping his eyes and ears open. It calmed him that Steve was at his back. He knew he’d have been a lot more skittish without that presence. He was actually feeling pretty good and it seemed like the other guys were as well. They were playing some sort of game as he stepped around the tank. 

Bucky had about half a second to react as Gabe jumped up and shouted “Watch out!” Then Bucky found himself stepping on something round and lost his footing. 

“Shiiit,” he yelled as he lost his grip on the box and went down. Potatoes and other food went flying everywhere. Bucky rolled over and glared at the ball that had gotten under foot. “Really?! Really, guys?”

Steve was laughing behind him. “The boy wonder strikes again.”

Bucky picked up a bag of rock-hard ham and threw it at Steve. “I’m going to shoot everyone later.”

That just made the guys all laugh harder.

 

V.

James Buchanan Barnes. The only Howling Commando to give his life in service to the country. The asset had read those words so many times over the past several weeks, sneaking into the Smithsonian late at night, when there was only a single security guard roaming this floor. It was easy, really, even though security had been stepped up since a uniform had been stolen… _his_ uniform.

He had read those words, and he knew it was him, but it didn’t _feel_ like him. The man in the photo on the plaque was clean cut and serious. He was no killer. The man in the photo had a family. A mother, a father, siblings. The asset had only himself and HYDRA… now he only had himself.

He shifted from one shadow to another and looked at the plaque with Captain America’s information on it. This was the man that the asset had forsaken HYDRA for. His mission had been to kill him. But something at the end of it all had shifted inside. 

_I’m with you… to the end of the line._

It had been almost two months since the helicarrier. He had stayed, despite better judgement, here in the capital, watching this man from a distance. Sometimes through a window, sometimes through the scope of a rifle. He should have pulled the trigger, but he never did. He wasn’t HYDRA anymore. He was someone else. Not quite the asset anymore and not quite Bucky Barnes.

There were a few things starting to come back to him, but it wasn’t enough. There was another phrase and he remembered it was his… _Not without you._

The asset… No, he was Bucky, he reminded himself. Even if he didn’t feel like that’s who he was, it was good to have a name, any name that wasn’t just the asset or Winter Soldier. Bucky pulled himself away from the Captain America plaque, away from the blue eyes that had haunted his sleep every day since the helicarrier.

There were mannequins on display, each bearing a replica of the uniforms worn by the Howling Commandos. It seemed as though each one had had his own uniform. Dernier. Dum Dum. Gabe. Bucky slowly took in the names and the uniforms, willing the memories to come. Everything was just so hazy, but he thought maybe he remembered.

Then he stopped in front of the mannequin in the blue jacket. This had been his uniform. “A present,” he whispered, surprising himself. It was such a random memory, but he knew with certainty that it was true. The man, Steve Rogers, supposedly his best friend, had given him that jacket.

Bucky sucked in his breath. It was a tangible memory, his first, and Bucky reached for the coat, needing to touch the fabric, to hold on to that memory. He grabbed the hem of the sleeve and ran a thumb along it. He had to stretch a bit to reach, as it was set back away from the edge of the platform. Bucky leaned in, eyes half closed, wanting to breath in the scent.

His eyes snapped open as the mannequin suddenly tipped over. He let out a string of colourful Russian curses, and a few Brooklyn ones as well, and tried to catch the mannequin before it clattered to the floor. His balance was thrown off slightly, though, and while he managed to catch his mannequin, he could do nothing about the others as they toppled over like dominos.

The alarms went off and Bucky dropped the mannequin and ran. Yet, as he ran, he felt that there was something very familiar about that moment.

 

VI.

Bucky walked with Steve down the docks at Coney Island. It had been four months since the helicarrier. Shortly after the Smithsonian accident, Bucky had returned to Steve, and they had returned to New York together. They were now, mostly, happily living together. Bucky wasn’t perfect, he still had his bad days when the asset would come back, but he had also slowly pieced together who he had been.

Not that he remembered everything, but it was enough. He wasn’t sure he would ever remember _everything_ , but that was probably for the best. For now, he was just content to live a relatively peaceful life with Steve, and the only the occasional excitement usually caused by Stark. 

They’d gone to see him shortly after arriving, to make sure Bucky’s arm wasn’t going to explode or anything. Bucky didn’t know much about the way his arm worked. They had just stuck it on him. He knew how to do basic maintenance, but any advanced work was beyond him. Unfortunately, Tony had been so fascinated by Bucky’s arm that if Bucky didn’t come by at _least_ once a week, Tony would show up on their doorstep, armed with a toolbox and pizza.

If it wasn’t Tony, it was Sam Wilson or Natasha Romanoff coming by to see how they were doing. Sam would occasionally go counselor mode on Bucky, not really pushing, but Bucky could see it in his eyes whenever Bucky mentioned something from the past. Natasha was just fun to be around, especially once she relaxed around him. She’d been nervous at first, and Bucky couldn’t blame her. He’d shot her after all. He remembered that mission. But he had to give her credit. Once she knew the Winter Soldier side of him was no longer active, she got comfortable with teasing him as much as she did Steve.

But today, Bucky and Steve were determined to just share a quiet day together. This was the first time they’d been back to Coney Island. Bucky hadn’t been able to ride any of the rides - they reminded him too much of being strapped down to the chair - but they had found other enjoyment. There were games (Bucky managed to win the big prize at the rifle game) and so much food that Bucky had never tried before. Shops sold little hand-crafted items, and as the afternoon wore on, they ended up walking along the docks with ice cream cones, watching the ocean.

“This place has really changed,” Bucky said, not for the first time that day.

“I’m just glad you’re having fun.” Steve smiled at him, then reached over to wipe a bit of ice cream off Bucky’s cheek.

“Excellent fun.” 

Just then a group of kids ran up. “That’s Captain America! Mom, look!” They came running so fast that Steve didn’t have time to brace himself before two twin girls attacked his leg, trying to hug him. Bucky watched Steve start to fall, and grabbed him, steadying him. 

“What, are you turning into me now?” Bucky teased.

Steve laughed. “Never be as clumsy as you, Buck.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a quick little thing I wanted to write, since Sebastian Stan mentioned he fell a few times during the movie and I started thinking about Bucky actually being quite a bit clumsy at times. I hope you enjoy.


End file.
